Cooking
by Radar-rox
Summary: Set after 3x01 yeah baby, kickin' it.... not that old-skool . After Much's ordeal, Tuck offers to cook supper and gets Robin to help him, then Much wants to know why Robin's never helped him.


**Disclaimer: Alas, they're not mine. Things would be pretty different in that forest if I did, let me tell you**

Much's head lolled forward slightly before being jerked up. He blinked a few times, trying to keep focused on the food and sharp knife in his hands.

Watching sympathetically, Tuck approached. "Careful my friend, or soon you will be falling asleep on that thing."

Much smiled a little, and with concern Tuck saw the true extent of the exhaustion and pain in his eyes. As Much turned back to his cooking Tuck reached down and took the knife from him, speaking before the other man could protest. "No, let someone else worry about that for once. You should rest, you've been through a lot."

Much looked at him, grateful. Of course, Tuck had no idea how true his words were. He nodded wordlessly and stumbled to his sleeping area, wincing at the pain from his newly-acquired brand as he lay down, drifting off immediately.

Tuck took in the array of food before him. "Robin!" He called to their leader, who was sat on a rock above the camp in a world of his own and staring moodily over the forest. "Come down here and help me with this."

Robin turned his head a little, appearing to deliberate Tuck's request, but eventually climbed down from the rock and stood staring at the monk. "What?"

"I told Much to get some rest, help me prepare this evening's meal."

Robin shrugged. "I can't cook."

"Oh? What've you tried to make?"

"Well.. nothing."

"Then how do you know you can't do it if you haven't tried?" Smiled Tuck, to which Robin had no answer. "Here, finish these off while I skin the rabbit."

Robin looked sideways from Tuck to where Allan and John were sat, involved in their own little tasks, but eventually took the offered knife and set to work in a resigned manner.

Glancing up, Allan was surprised to see Robin doing what he was told, and even looking a little unsure of himself. He whistled very quietly to catch John's attention, and nodded to the kitchen. John took in the scene and looked back to Allan, eyebrows raised. Tuck had only been with them a very short time, and already he was making big changes in the gang. The way it was looking at the moment though, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

Robin worked hard preparing the meal, beginning to appreciate just how much effort and thought it took, and Tuck refused to help him estimate how much of each ingredient was needed for all of them, or how to tell when things were cooked, returning each plea for assistance with another question such as "How much do _you_ think we need?". All the while he was cooking Robin kept glancing over to where Much slept fitfully, his face fixed in a frown, and wondered just how he managed to do this every day.

Eventually the meal was ready and, though exhausted from the day's events and all this work, Robin was pleased with his efforts.

As Tuck dished up the meal, Robin went to wake his oldest friend. "Much. Much." He said, gently shaking his shoulder. "Oi, c'mon! We can't have you lazing around all day!" He prodded Much in the belly and he sat up sharply with a yell.

Robin jumped back a little, eyes wide as the others' heads snapped round to see what was going on.

"Woah, Much!" Said Robin, laughing a little as he recovered. "Are you alright?"

Much blinked at his surroundings, breathing deeply. "I.. yes.. nightmare."

"Well come on, supper's ready."

Much nodded shakily, trying to steady his breath and ignore the pain shooting through his side.

After the meal Much, despite the pain he was still in, insisted on clearing up as he was the only one who knew where everything went in the well-designed kitchen. When he was finished he joined them by the fire, sitting down stiffly next to Robin with a sharp breath. "Thank you, Robin."

Robin turned to look at him, and raised his eyebrows.

"For helping Tuck prepare the supper. Allan told me."

"Oh." He shrugged. "It was no problem. Tuck said you needed a rest. You feeling better?"

Much nodded a little, but looking closely, Robin could see in his face that there was something bothering him. "Why have you never helped me, master?"

"What?"

"You helped Tuck with supper, but why have you never helped me? He said you were good."

"Exactly." Said Robin. "I didn't want to try and be good, because I know I'd end up having to do it all the time."

"Which wouldn't be fair on you." Much nodded.

"No."

Much turned to look at him, sorrow etched on his face. "Then why do you make me do it?"

Robin could've given him any one of a dozen answers. He was the best at it, he'd have complained at the way anyone else went about it, that he was the servant, it was his job…

"I don't know."

Staring into the fire Much whispered "Me either", and got up to go to bed.

A frown of guilt and anger imprinted on his face, Robin didn't even notice the hiss of pain as his best friend moved.

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